A white clinic currently lies all but empty, as I wait for the results of the battery of tests I requested. Walls painted in what someone thought as a relaxing pastel green that unnerves me, a couple of potted plants that shine too suspiciously in the artificial lighting of the fluorescent tubes hidden behind their plastic diffusers.

The painting of a clown hanging in front of me is the focus of my attention though. Why would anyone keep such a creepy object hanging in such a high place? And why so many!?

Mayhaps the medicinal expert has an ancestor in the entertainment industry?

Don’t be foolish! You’ve seen the man? Compare their noses, it is a self-portrait masquerading as a generic painting!

Are you certain you wish to know why you can’t conceive, my friend? That’s usually a question that makes the inquirer feel emasculated when proven true

‘I am not insecure in myself to become broken by that—it is only confirmation that what I know is, in fact, true.’

I had offspring, and my offspring had offspring … though I must admit, none of us were ever true inheritors of The Dark’s power. Maybe that is what is interfering with your capability to have offspring … ?

You do know that the clowns have fake noses usually placed for exaggeration purposes?

I don’t know why the complaints, I find that painting full of emotion

You’re one to speak, Rosenkrantz—your taste in art is as awful as your taste in fashion!

I was brought out of my musing—and from enjoying the peanut gallery discussing the dubious art sensibilities of the medical practitioners residing here by a middle-aged woman.

The medic’s secretary.

“Señor Josefo Bran, por favor pase a la puerta número tres. El doctor lo espera para darle los resultados de sus pruebas.”

I nodded at the woman, muttering a thank you and moved towards my destination … .

Memories within a dream?

It was the year 1849, and I was walking through the cobbled path towards my destination.

In front of me loomed the Victorian edifice housing the newly-opened Hope House Orphanage in Ipswich—within the county of Suffolk, England—thinking how to achieve my goal without the usual structural supports that such an endeavour would require.

It was a foolish dream in my current situation, and I even more foolishly tried to go on regardless without updating my current mindset to current culture and expectations.

“I am terribly sorry, Mister Ashtington—but we cannot allow an adoption to happen if there is no provable source of income and living conditions.” The severe-dressed woman in charge of the orphanage stated matter-of-fact to me.

“I … I see. It is a good thing to keep in mind. May I inquire as to if there is anything I can do to help out in this establishment then?” I inquired, deliberately raising an eyebrow as the ‘gentlemen’ of this time did.

“Donations are always welcome, whether of money or materials. The secretary can assist you in that regard. Good day, mister.”

I inwardly sighed at that response as I moved.

Things were not as hard to attain during Phillip’s rule in France despite conditions being … terrible.

This-this is a storm! How can he stand it and remain sane!?

I couldn’t believe my eyes as I saw the exhibit at the local museum.

A caché of mine was the focus of this exhibit—dug out by accident by the builders of a new complex and donated to the museum for ‘social reasons’.

If this had happened to this one … what about the other cachés I scattered through the centuries?

I must find a point of anchorage, ‘lest I am drowned by the tide of memories!

I cried over the broken body of my son—waylaid by rogues in the pass through the Pyrinnees, hugging his body in vain to tell him that I loved him one last time as the soldiers watched in silence … .

He was my tenth through the centuries, and it still hurt as if he were the first.

I will truly cry when I no longer feel pain at losing someone I raised and loved as my own … .

“Our power may allow the ones harbored within you to become cleansed and be free to go and reincarnate into the Other. Would you be willing to free them from your rule?” Harmony offered kindly as I sat cross-legged in front of the crystal avatar of her personage—the first time I had been able to do so in centuries since arriving at this gods-forsaken realm once access to The Dark had resumed albeit at a minimal amount.

I blinked at the question and focused myself inwards.

‘As much as I do not mind harboring all of you, and value your aid and continued support throughout my daily life … I leave the choice up to all of you—I may be able to command you at will, but I refuse to do so for this. Please decide amongst yourselves, and give me your answer to this offer … .’

A cacophony of voices rose immediately, drowning all details as if I were close to the shore—listening in to the waves of the sea during a stormy night.

It felt like an eternity until the legion went silent … and their answers echoed through.

We shall remain

Until you bid us farewell, we shall stand by your side

You granted us reprieve

You aided us in our time of madness

To the bitter end we shall support you

I am sorry … I am so sorry … .

This continued for what felt another eternity, to which I simply answered as a single tear escaped its prison.

‘Thank you.’

The sound of crying echoed through the frost-covered woods, as the snow crunched beneath the worn soles of my boots.

Scrunching in confusion, I couldn’t help but ask myself … .

‘Am I hearing right?’

It appears to be so

That type of cry drills to the skull, make it stop

Perhaps it is edible

You disgust me

It sounds like a baby abandoned in the woods … we don’t see a happy ending if the creature isn’t found. Fast

Aren’t there predators that masquerade as newborns?

You’re thinking about a Tiyanak

Bah, changelings do the same

Shaking my head at the discussion going on, I attempted to pinpoint the source of the wailing—and barely saw movement at a short distance followed by what appeared to be … .

I blinked at the change that happened within a radius of the source of the distortion—where there was snow, now it was something fluffy and with clashing plaid purple and blue with spots of dark brown where a furry, serpentine creature was climbing on top of, with the trees within the bubble turned into bars with red and white stripes and a green-and-orange striped cloud raining down some sort of brown liquid over the creature.

It looked as if it were looking for something—

‘Or someone.’ My own treacherous thoughts added grimly as I cautiously approached. At a short distance I made my presence known to it.

“Hello, little one.” I introduced myself with gentle firmness, trying to figure out if it was a mere beast or a sapient being. Its eyes focused on me immediately—and my surroundings twisted as I felt gravity go to the wayside, colors twist as sounds and sounds tasting oddly like licorice as everything turned Spotted Plaid.

The Blood Sin on my back burned my flesh harshly for a second before an instinctive pulse of power echoed through the bubble that the youngling had summoned to curtail my approach.

‘Note to self, remember how to do that at will if I end up raising him.’

It isn’t too complicated, though its Dark is different from ours

Aww! Isn’t he the cutest!?

‘Merlose?’

Yes, Ashley?

‘How can you tell it is male?’

A boy, Ashley—dear lord, you’ve been a husband, and have seen parents through the years. Can’t you tell as well?

I lowered my sights and saw the being—the baby—wail as it tried to move away from me, the snow slowing his passage through.

Without a second thought, I approached him and brought him up to cover with my cape. The poor thing was shivering in cold, whimpering in fear at me.

My heart cracked at that realization, but why was he afraid of me?

“I must find shelter … and a food source.” I vocalized my thoughts out loud—too long without using my voice made it harder for me to remember how to speak again, I had learned that to my distress when I spent two centuries in silence then tried casting a cantrip in a time of need.

Quickly casting Barrer’s cantrip over the two of us to ward off the cold—I would have to serve as a source of warmth for the time being for the baby if I were to make certain that he could survive the harshness of the cold.

His shivering slowed down, but he kept his whimpers underneath the cloak as I wrapped my arms around him supportively.

I started singing a lullaby … until his crying intensified.

‘It appears that I grate him.’

Analyze him—if he is different from other newborns, then a different type of song will be the solution

‘Understood, Mullenkamp.’

Another cantrip—which soothed him out a little for reasons I cannot fathom—and I got my answer.

‘A being of magic.’

A being of chaos magic. Big difference

‘Explain. I thought The Dark was inherently chaotic.’

This world’s magic is orderly—he’s a natural byproduct meant for balancing it out though it doesn’t explain how he appeared in this place

It has a soul. Thus, it is alive. It means it is either a spirit, or the spawn’s parents left it to die here. End of story.

Grant me permission to speak, and I shall sing him an ancient Kildean hymn

‘… Mullenkamp? Am I to expect that the creature I am holding in my arms right now is a God of Dark?’

Not exactly … though his Dark is untainted yet unique. It doesn’t match the Dark that the natives wield. That merits study on its own merit

‘I … I see.’

Very well, to answer your question … no, that hymn isn’t devoted to a god or any deity, so stop being you, Ashley—and allow me to sing

I grumbled at her. ‘… Permission granted, Mullenkamp.’

My mouth opened up—but I was no longer in control of it, moving towards shelter as the unknowable song of pure magic and will, lyrics that appeared to be more madness than anything else soothed the child’s worries … which added plenty to mine.

We kept on singing regardless ….

Blue eyes watched me from the depths of the woods, and moved within to keep track of my path.

Darkness … darkness that is replaced by a wooden hut, where a distressed Earth Pony mare is facing me with hatred in her factions.

She yelled at me as she readied herself to pursue me out of her property. “Murderer! I trusted you! Get out of my house!”

“Murderer!? What are you accusing me of—ugh!” I fell with my back to the ground, where the grinding teeth of the grieving mother opened up to yell at me again, too close to my face to properly see her eyes.

“My child! You claimed that you had cured him, yet I found him dead on his way to the well!”

My mind grind to a halt at these news … .

“Take me to him.” I grit my teeth back at her.

An unknown, yet satisfied male spoke out from out of the range of my sight. “There is no need. Thank you ma’am, we’ll make certain that your son is avenged and that this rogue is sent to the gallows for pretending to be a practitioner of the healing arts.”

I rose my eyes—only to see several spears pointed my way and a unicorn at the lead who looked way too happy to be there.

I scowled at the implications as I was forced to stand … .

We know where this memory fits in now, but it still galls me how badly we failed.

The once verdant valley was now covered in snow. An eternal winter, the consequence of a war of attrition between the three pony tribes that didn’t know they had essentially doomed themselves by their actions.

The royal house of Platinum was gathered, a massive gathering at the meeting grounds attached to the castle town hearing captivated at their ‘wise’ ruler. “With this new development in the art of magic, we will strike down the rulers of the Earth Pony and Pegasus tribes and situate ourselves as the rightful rulers of Ponykind!”

There I was, all but invisible to the casual observer and to many a master of the arcane … and couldn’t believe the madness in front of my eyes as the glyph bearing The Blood Sin floated above the castle.

‘When, how—I know I haven’t freed The Dark, so why is it there!?’

Spirits rose from the ground, gathering into an unholy army—only to be assailed by another army composed of ghostly flying equines, and a gathering of earthbound ghosts starting to breach the walls of the defending unicorns.

All of them register as tainted by the Dark

I joined the raging battle to try and save what I could … .

‘Damn you and your plans … Harmony.’

Mexico’s state during the eighties was a mixed blessing. On one hand, it meant relearning their version of Spanish—as the one I knew then was closer to the one brought by the Conquistadores than the modern one descended from the colonists. Corruption was also bad—and as much as it shamed me, useful for having an identity and capability to move unimpeded as long as I remained in the system and didn’t draw attention to myself.

It was expensive, and every half-century or so the price rose up.

Regardless of legality, it helped me immensely as I couldn’t employ the healthcare services of many first-world nations due to the issue of constant vigilance and digitalized documentation. Thus, my current position as Josefo Bran, entering the Consult to find out answers that I feared hearing.

The man barely contained in a lab coat at the Gynecology Consult greeted me effusively by the hand. Tanned, well-dressed and walrus-moustachioed, with a voice that made the windows vibrate and the doorframes loosen up a bit whenever the man spoke.

He explained to me why. The pain of my heart, the cold burn of my soul.

Why I couldn’t conceive and have offspring of my own.

Everything worked … but there were no seeds being produced from my gonads … .

I had no way if it had always been like that, or if The Dark had done it when I inherited its power in its full might way back in time—before arriving into this world.

Deadened, I thanked the man and made my way out of the premises, numbly making my way through the crowded streets of the Federal District of Mexico City watching how everyone moved faster than I.

As painful as it was to get evidence, this did explain why I couldn’t impregnate anyone in both worlds through what I estimated were four millennia combined of experience, falling in love, then failing to make a family of my own.

I made a mental checklist of my available caches of coin and precious metals—and was reminded by the ones keeping count that they were dwindling as the bribes rose up in price.

Best to think of something to make them last before leaving this world for the next one.

But first … .

There was a ‘taquería’ joint that was calling for me to drown my sorrow and hunger in delicious local cuisine.

A shadow followed me at a distance—so accustomed as I was to such a perception, did not bother in paying attention to it.

Winged, horned and quadruped … it followed me at a distance as if it were a Latin-American ‘black dog’.

An aurora adorned the night sky in the northern edge of the Umbral Crown Seal, where Galeas and I stood watch, chatting amongst us to ward off the boredom. The stars shined brightly through the multicolored phenomena, giving an unusual color to the snow and ice covering the mountains further north of our shack.

Stones keeping the cold-warding spell into position made this spot snowless though the cold still seeped in, making it look as if a brown spot marked the center of the plains, and it would be correct.

Within our relative refuge, Galeas sought every now and then to distort my surroundings to make a joke at my expense, or make me uncomfortable at the least which was how he practiced his own magic … and I practised counter-spelling his efforts and harnessing my own class of Chaos.

From a flash came tentacles that gave off rap music and was hatching tiny little grey aliens inside their flying dishes—swiftly replaced by the chilled wind-blades of the air itself with a pulse of my own magic. From another flash of my son, the soil sourced dwarves made of ice brandishing what I believed were elves tied to their icicles, clashing them against their shields and making the elves weep childish poems that grated the nerves with shrill voices.

Unfortunately for me, my way of thinking didn’t lead itself well to casting Chaos Magic with harmless results.

My son laughed at the result of my attempt—what appeared to be toy soldiers fighting each other wielding tiny horses made of one piece, their colors being too suspiciously similar to the ponies though their factions were too different … too feral to be the same.

I may have thought them to be eyesores clashing with the whiteness of the snow plain.

My son thought them hilarious, the results of the cantrip coming from my subconscious belief at what was ‘chaos’.

Can’t say I fault him, as there haven’t been any sapient in this world that I felt was more insane that ponykind. Not after what happened to Dream Valley, and how it is now frozen beneath several meters of ice—with the warring majority of its inhabitants long ago frozen to death without any regard to their lives.

The wind cut through our souls as the chill extended, testing the capability of the cantrip to its limits while Galeas watched with interest the new arrivals slowly coming our way that we were supposed to assist.

‘Harmony … what is your real goal in leading these fools here of all places?’

I pushed my thoughts aside, as some equines separated from the main group and slowly made their way towards us. If I’m correct, they’ll be a cabal of impromptu leaders, being led by a couple of unicorn … and earth pony?

I blinked at that in disbelief.

That said couple had a resolute expression didn’t deter me from comparing their faces to those that the pug breed of dog has.

I may be uncharitable, but I long lost any sense of patience when dealing with their kind.

Out loud we welcomed them to our relatively warm spot, right at the center of the seal occupying the entire plain.

The first couple that came first—the pug-ponies—had quickly dismissed their expression when they saw me scowling at them and backing it up with raw disgust at being close to them.

Despite that, we were civilized. So, from pleasantries came their plans and why where they here.

They were being led by a vision of building a city made of crystal—a city that would be protected from the weather by the warmth of their loving hearts. Personally? I believed them to be fools by their insane designs, and Harmony even more for filling their heads with nonsense.

“Allow me to understand this.” I stood in front of the crowd leaders—an unusual mix of earth ponies and unicorns, three unicorns and four earth ponies. “You wish to replace us as wardens of these grounds, and build on top of it a magically sensitive city that will be protected … by what again?”

“A barrier that will be powered by the love of our hearts for our fellow ponies as a community, which will not only protect us from the Windigos, but keep your prisoner trapped as you designed, Warden of Darkness.” The former pug-stallion stated in what I believe he felt was a decisive tone.

“Love.” I glared at them in disbelief. “You want me to risk having the abomination trapped underneath be freed by such a fleeting emotion, such a faulty design? What, you’ll sit on a throne all day and night basking in the love and adoration of your band of vagrants, and with that faith and love flowing in to back your … power,” I coughed in disbelief, “you’ll power up a barrier that will span several hundred gallops by your own selves?”

They looked at one another and quickly huddled into a whispering crowd … .

…

…

This time the same couple of pug-ponies came to my encounter, the others following at a short range.

“Harmony guided us here, and revealed to us that Love is the direct counter to the Umbral Crown. That said”, he shuffled uncomfortably, “we have a resource that might help, but it isn’t intelligent nor sentient—it is incredibly risky to use as a focus as it cannot distinguish between emotions.”

I raised an eyebrow at that quick change of attitude coming from them.

We might be able to work with them

I wonder what they have in mind

My greater interest lies in what is their ‘foci’ they speak of

I nodded in acquiescence. “Very well, let’s hear out what it is about.”

The group nodded amongst each other, then procured what appeared to be a rough-hewn semiprecious stone the size of my head presented by a dark blue pony with moon markings on its spotted flanks and sorrow in her eyes.

“This is the foci we speak of. We discovered it on our way through the mountains … .”

“We want you to leave this place, Warden of the Dark.”

I blinked after hearing that order … and rose my eyes from my workshop to the face of the mare leading the crowd, all glaring daggers at me.

“Why should I?” I question them back.

A mare from the crowd yells at me. “We know how you murdered the former rulers for a dark ritual of yours, and we cannot abide your evil miasma no more in this city of light and hope!”

Several heavily armored ponies—clad with designs derived from the originals I taught their grandfathers—stood in the way of the crowd … only to turn my way and gruffly repeat the same nonsense order as the fools.

I started gathering power to fight them … until Galeas appeared in a puff of confetti and a cloud of chocolate-and-salted-fish smelling smoke. Naturally, whenever he appeared the ponies turned skittish though I wonder why he chose now to make an appearance. “Dad! Can we leave on a journey!? That was why they were supposed to stay, don’t you remember!?”

One of the leaders of said crowd stuttered at that. “Ho-hold on a second—wait, Sir Galeas! We aren’t tossing you out, but that wicked creature!”

Once I met snakes that puffed up when threatening something into leaving, and Galeas’s reprise of that shut the crowd up. “That wicked creature is my father, you nincompoop! How dare you lot turn on him as if he were a Windigo in the flesh!?”

Realizing at once that Galeas was right, and that our time here was up—I rose up and closed the entrance to my now former workshop to make preparations to leave.

Though it galled me that the so-called ‘royal promise’ wasn’t worth the paper it was written on it wasn’t really worth fighting over, so I summoned several Crusaders and Imps to help gather everything up into my swiftly summoned trunk.

I guess now the most dangerous of the Abominations would be now under the watch of ponies … .

Oh dear lord, the most dangerous of all Abominations will be under the watch of these ponies.

I shuddered at that realization.

‘Well, I hope that Galeas is interested in traveling westward … the seal is strong, and the upkeep won’t be heavy on their shoulders. It won’t be as if they’ll be suborned from the inside by a shard of the Umbral Crown!’

With a lighter heart, I decided that if we ever made a home, it would be in more hospitable soil.

Ponies … were all bastards to this day.

Within the shadows of my former workshop, an equine face watched me go with wretchedness etched onto her eyes.

A multitude of rotting corpses stood in front of me, at my sides … and instincts long instilled warned me about the ones on my back.

Unlike before, I now stood before them as a worthless quadruped instead of my usual bipedal self.

Where before I could stand above the rotting, bleeding, crushed, burned, dismembered and impaled bodies … now I stood below their height, now I was the focus of their hatred as a lesser being. Nevertheless, I steeled himself for what was to come, as a change that I couldn’t describe had occurred.

This is not the same nightmare that has assailed me since before arriving at this gods-forsaken world.

First, there was the chanting coming from the crowd—buffeting me from all sides, burrowing beneath my skin and attempting to break my resolve.

Murderer

Trickster

Child-killer

Kingslayer

Monster

Failure

Bastard

Arrogant twit

Self-righteous monster

Why!?

Are you proud of yourself!?

Everywhere you go … .

You leave bodies behind!

You deserve no future, as you took it from us and our families!

We will always remind you of your blood-soaked ways, you will never be allowed respite!

And look at yourself now! Now, you resemble your newest victims! The ones that you believed yourself superior to!

Where is your superiority now, Ashley Riot—no, not Ashley Riot … Iron Ash the vapid pony freakshow!

What is this madness!? Mister Ashley, do not heed their words!

Jeers and mocking laughter echoed from the multitude as more joined their numbers of bleeding corpses. Unlike before, this new multitude was one formed out of ponies and other quadrupeds, minotaurs, griffons, dragons, in an assortment of sizes and ages.

For some reason amongst their number was a weirdly familiar alicorn ruler of blue hues, looking around in horrified shock.

What is this nightmare!? This isn’t right! It isn’t answering to my magic!

You killed everyone I loved!

You drew the army of the Sun Princess towards our humble city!

You murdered her soldiers in cold blood, even those that begged for mercy!

Parent-slayer! You made our children watch as you murdered us as an example!

Where is your so-called justice!? You deserve oblivion, to not even have your works be remembered!

You monster claim to be saint, yet you’re worse than anything that Tartarus has ever produced!

You made an oath to join the troops of Niall for the time of its need, and yet you were not there when we were crushed!

Oathbreaker!

They made you royalty at Minos with the blood of Niall, and yet you hide the evidence beneath your cot! Coward! You were entrusted with Royal Authority, and yet you hid it out as if it were something shameful!

Disgraceful!

I loved you, you heartless wretch!

You’re The Vagrant, unwanted everywhere! Warden of The Dark is too big a title for one such as thee!

Mister Riot, none of this is real! Stop this self-flagellation!

I steeled myself and addressed the blood-thirsty crowd as I did whenever this nightmare rose up to bring bile to my throat.

“I never claimed to have righteousness at my side, nor sanctity for that matter!” I waved my arm—hoof at this point—in front of me as I snarled back, “I did what I could, the ones I slew I admit to having done so for either King, State or my own selfishness. I am no god, I am fallible as anyone can be!”

Shadows began wrapping up around the environment—cloaking the myriad of corpses as I spoke out, “I know my failings, which is why I keep in mind, my victims … the ones I failed to protect, and the ones I loved and failed badly in keeping safe … .”

Mister Riot … . !

“I have many regrets, and will outlive your very world while keeping them in mind … so spare me your accusations, you shadows of my existence!” I cried out in anger, “I fully acknowledge you’re my self-loathing and guilt, and you’ll find no purchase in my existence! Begone, fiends of my mind!”

Wait!

Everything turned black as the shadows covered me—leaving only the burning Blood Sin shining through on both sides of my arse as all twisted and vanished.

I stood still, watching in disbelief at the compact disc case in front of me.

“Mister Brannigan?” my employer’s voice cut through the storm of chaos that was my mind now.

“Yes, sir?” I answered back, not taking my eyes off the case.

The gruff, potbellied mountain of muscles I called boss came to a side and hummed at my object of interest. “I believe that this is not a music CD, Ash.”

My eyebrow raised a bit as I finally shrugged off the existential crisis that I just went through. “I agree, though methinks that your eldest would appreciate it.”

He laughed out loud before waggling his eyebrows. “Good try, Ash—but we both know that he’s too focused on that ‘Lara Croft’ if you get my meaning!” He then did a double take at the picture gracing the case. “Well, if that ain’t the world’s biggest coincidence then I don’t know what is! He’s your cartoon twin!”

I smiled at that response—and made a resolution to see if that Playstation game had more than a passing similarity with my own life.

After he slammed his hammer-sized palm on my back good-humoredly we moved away, leaving behind the case with the words ‘Vagrant Story’ and a cartoonish depiction of myself and Callo Merlose in front of it tinted into a partial sepia tone.

A snout brushed past the case, only for the scene to change again … .

A shattered mirror, and what appeared to be the remains of a human body that was used as a shield against a hatchet-wielding maniac was splattered all over the wood floor.

The body was mangled beyond recognition, torn into pieces that no longer fit into one another … only for a blood trail to lead someplace else.

Within a darkened corner there was a pony shaped figure that had parts missing—showing its internal organs somewhat working but slowly but inexorably slowing down its pulsing. Where parts met, its bits glued with darkness and some rainbow hues flowing through the multitude of cracks—and plenty of the ‘material’ glueing him or outright replacing parts of him was distributed amongst three … sculptures.

Within the shadows, blue eyes watched in horror at the scene laid in front of her.

The pony-shaped figure limped towards the broken mirror and watched itself … cheek ‘stitches’ tearing themselves up at his sight as he screamed at the sight.

The Blood Sin shined red as if unaffected by his condition—raising wafts of burning flesh and fur into the air as they shone from their new places close to his butt.

The shambling figure stumbled upon the sculptures and witnessed their visage, head barely lifting itself from its position to examine them.

One of them was a cloud of darkness producing shadow ponies—including one very familiar stallion amongst their midst, crooked horn, fanged snarl and purple, green and red smoke pouring out of his eyes while wearing a crown and ermine cloak over his armor. At his side were the Nightmare and another shade that was similar to a smoky, inky stallion posing at the unicorn stallion’s flanks as if escorting him.

What is the meaning of this?! Why are Sombra and Nightmare Moon depicted in there!? He never met them personally! And what is that third figure? We’ve not met it before … .

Shambling to the next sculpture, the figure was overcome with the same chorus of accusations and rage emanating from the cloud of darkness—briefly falling down … and yet forcing himself to move forward until he rose and examined the second sculpture.

Three-toed and fingered, mouths opened up into a snarl that would have made a Timberwolf move backwards … the robe-clad figure rose its staff and sword, surrounded by effigies of thousands of beings similar to it. All of them looked as if having risen from a grave, and all of them looked enraged. The Blood Sin hanged over them as if it were an unholy halo, showing their connection to The Dark.

The sound of spellfire rending flesh, rock and reality itself made itself known amongst the howls and snarls of rage and unfettered hatred for all living beings made the pony crawl away from it—and towards the last of the sculptures.

A skeleton playing puppeteer, strings hanging from its hands that flowed into many—amongst them a miniature figure of the Moon Princess changing half-way into Nightmare Moon, a draconequus torn apart with one part gone missing into the air, strings entering a frail-looking stallion forcing him into a smoke-and-ink figure, and a menagerie of monsters coming from summoning circles depicting the Blood Sin in their middle, strings flowing into them as if pulling them into Reality.

The entity laughed out loud as the sculpture ‘moved’ its pieces haphazardly. The broken pony just stared at it and moved onto the rubble of what was once a statue.

He stood and watched over the remains of one of the heads of what once might have been a Hydra. He slammed his hoof over it, crushing it to dust before said hoof turned into a mangled mess that slowly stitched itself together.

He stumbled upon the floor—making his way towards the broken mirror, point which Luna couldn’t resist any further and stepped noiselessly into the light.

Without raising his head, Iron Ash asked plaintively to the air, “I believed that any intruder would be stopped by your worthless carcasses. Explain yourselves.”

Luna stopped herself as several equine ghosts appeared from thin air looking worried—and once they set their eyes on her, they turned fearful as they moved towards Ash.

One of them whimpered, “Sir, we honestly didn’t know—”

They were all at once dispelled as Iron Ash turned to face Luna … and she could do nothing but gulp at the horrible sight now exposed to the dim candlelight fluttering in this chamber.

“Enjoying yourself at the fruit of your labor, monster?” He asked, eyebrow raised as blood flowed from the stitches keeping said eyebrow in place. A face with parts of flesh missing, teeth exposed along with the blood red of muscle tissue shown where it shouldn’t have, body in a similar state of disrepair.

Luna felt tears coming to her eyes, and spoke out plaintively to him … but no words came out of her.

Mister Riot … nopony wanted this—not like this. Twilight is remorseful at what she’s done, and so is everypony. Please … let us help you, since we have failed since the start to uphold our values towards you—much less behaving like we were meant to be.

“I see … nothing of value came out. No great loss, that.” He snorted in a horselike fashion which froze Luna, “get out of my head … .” At this point his body started to fall apart as the ‘glue’ keeping him together flowed away until his eyes shone brightly like embers in the dark, “and never come back ‘lest I slay you within my mind!!”

Ghosts of every equine and quadruped touched by The Tainted Dark swarmed her—giving no quarter to her as she attempted in vain to control the dream to pacify it.

As she started feeling torn apart she screamed and vanished from the now-breaking-dream as Iron Ash stood watching the dream unmake itself.

Darkness … cut off by light turning everything red in sight.

Author's Note

These interludes will be used to give an 'insight' into Iron Ash--Ashley Riot after the wringer. Memories of the past, reflections, dreams, anything that can be used to develop him further.

Now the question is: what do you think of his perspective?

From my viewpoint: He isn't a healthy person. For all I know he might not be even fully sane either. I hope that I have conveyed that properly without going into black comedy due to exageration.